Good Lord, is it December already? Thanksgiving breezed by, and since then major work issues have kept me glued to the phone and computer, doing unpleasant yet unavoidable tasks, for near every waking moment. And now, blast it, it’s Christmas–time to be stringing lights and mixing eggnog, elbowing shoppers in a department store and watching A Charlie Brown Christmas (I’m doing it to bond with my kids, of course), and not stuck to a keyboard trying to sweat my way through a deadline.

But while it’s a few days until I can completely slough off these distractions and fully embrace the holiday spirit, I can still take a Friday night to tip a glass to the season. And when Christmas rolls around, there are few drinks finer for an evening tipple than the Stinger.

Like signet rings and school ties, Stingers were once a badge of the upper-crust. But then, according to Esquire’s Handbook for Hosts, it found new popularity among pilots during the Second World War. Once the riff-raff got hold of it, the Stinger was fair game for anyone looking for a post-prandial bracer or a nice, mellow nightcap.

Mixed properly–which is quite easy, given there are only two ingredients–the Stinger is a very agreeable character to have around. It’s also quite flexible; while most recipes call for brandy, I’ve seen (but not tried) versions made with gin and vodka, and I’ve grown quite fond of those made with dark rum or bourbon (the latter is sometimes called a “Dixie Stinger,” though since the name is obscure and sounds like a stripper’s pseudonym, I’ve been apprehensive about ordering one in a public establishment). My personal favorite nowadays is a bourbon stinger made with Maker’s Mark, the soft, wheaty character of the whiskey functioning perfectly with the smooth taste of mint.

Key to preserving the Stinger’s charm is a gentle hand with the creme de menthe. While most bar manuals call for proportions as great as 2:1 (a few older ones even call for equal parts), a 4:1 ratio, or one even drier, is usually all that’s needed to give your base spirit a gentle touch of mint. And when mixing a Stinger, keep in mind that this is the one all-liquor drink that is best prepared shaken rather than stirred–the mint functions better in a drink with near-arctic chill, and the heaviness of the liqueur is somewhat lightened by the bubbles. While Stingers are perfectly acceptable when served straight-up, pouring them over crushed ice helps preserve the cocktail’s frigid flavor.

Tomorrow, back to work. Tonight, though, it’s time to think about my gift list and entertain thoughts about the coming holidays.

Stinger

• 2 ounces brandy (make mine with bourbon; rum is also nice)
• 1/2 ounce (or less) white creme de menthe

Shake with ice and strain into chilled cocktail glass, or into Old Fashioned glass filled with crushed ice. Garnish with a mint leaf, if you’ve got one lying around.

Technorati tag: cocktails

Tags: Bourbon, Brandy, Drinks by Paul
6 Comments »

Just in time for Thanksgiving, the good Dr. Cocktail has given us a brief history and erudite assessment on the status of whiskey in America, posted over at Martini Republic.

Read it here: As Thanksgiving Hurls

Tags: Bourbon, General, Rye by Paul
No Comments »

When I was about four years old, I fell madly in love with Jacqueline Kennedy. My older brother had a children’s book about JFK that was filled with photographs–Jack playing football; a gaggle of well-mannered, near-identical looking children clustered on some expansive Massachusetts lawn; PT-109. Our house was a house of books, and after I’d tired of Mammals do the Most Amazing Things! and Green Eggs and Ham, I’d find myself lying on the carpet, flipping through the photos of the Kennedys.

I had yet to start kindergarten, so it’s not surprising I found little of interest in most of the book. But on one of the first pages was a clear color spread: Black sedan convertible. Men in brightly colored shirts and Brylcreemed hair and women with scarves and cats-eye sunglasses, lining the street. Pearls and a pink pillbox hat. Dallas.

They were both smiling and waving.

She looked happy and beautiful in that photo, and to my four-year-old eyes, the color of her hair and the shape of her face made her look more than a little like my mother. I coveted that photo. In hindsight, it must have been jarring to my parents–Texans, both, and lifelong Democrats–to have seen their child staring in bliss at an image from that November day. But I had no idea of the weight that photo carried. I just loved the sweep of hair across her forehead as she squinted into the sun, one gloved hand raised in a wave to the adoring crowds.

The Widow’s Kiss

• 1 1/2 ounces calvados
• 3/4 ounce yellow Chartreuse (green works, too, but it’s a little more intense)
• 3/4 ounce Benedictine
• 2 dashes Angostura bitters

Stir with ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with a cherry.

The Widow’s Kiss predates Camelot by a good 65 years. In Vintage Spirits & Forgotten Cocktails, Ted Haigh credits George Kappeler’s Modern American Drinks, from 1895, with first publishing a recipe for this drink. Harry Craddock, Patrick Gavin Duffy and “Cocktail” Bill Boothby all list the same recipe in their early 20th-century bar guides (though in Old Waldorf Bar Days, Albert Stevens Crockett lists a recipe calling for equal parts Parfait d’Amour, yellow Chartreuse and Benedictine, with the beaten white of an egg positioned on top and adorned with a slice of strawberry).

Built upon the heady foundation of calvados, and with the complex aromatic firepower of not one, but two venerable herbal liqueurs, the Widow’s Kiss is a drink to nestle into. In his book, Haigh calls the Widow’s Kiss the most evocative drink ever, a cocktail suited for late fall edging toward winter. On a chilly November evening, post-Dallas, post-Watergate, post-Florida, post-9/11, and not-yet-post-Iraq, there’s no small amount of satisfaction to be found in a drink that calls up a honeyed past, and provides a moment’s distraction from the bitter present.

Technorati tag: cocktails, calvados

Tags: Calvados, Drinks by Paul
7 Comments »

Just when I started to think that every combination of classic ingredients must have been tried, along comes a drink like the Red Hook. This variation on the classic Manhattan is a fairly recent creation, credited to Enzo Errico, bartender at Sasha Petraske’s Milk & Honey in New York. Named for the neighborhood in South Brooklyn–a former industrial zone with cobblestone streets and Civil War-era brick buildings, now yet another revitalized urban area–the Red Hook is a little more rugged than your typical Manhattan. The Punt y Mes has a bitter component, kind of a cross between sweet vermouth and Campari, that gives the drink a kind of serrated edge, but the healthy dose of maraschino manages to simultaneously tone down the Punt y Mes while adding its own complicated personality to the mix. In cautious balance on a base of rye whiskey, this flavor pairing manages to bring out the strengths in each modifier, without any one flavor becoming too dominant.

Cheers to Ben at Zig Zag Cafe for introducing me to this one. A dedicated Manhattan drinker and all-around rye-whiskey fiend, I think I’ve found a new favorite.

Red Hook

• 2 ounces rye whiskey
• 1/2 ounce Punt y Mes
• 1/4 – 1/2 ounce maraschino, to taste

Stir with ice, strain into chilled cocktail glass.

Technorati tag: cocktails, whiskey

Tags: Drinks, Rye, Vermouth by Paul
20 Comments »

Even though it’s still only mid-November, it feels like autumn is in its final days in Seattle. Last week’s wind storms blew most of the yellowed leaves from the maple in front of our house, so now a glance out the living room window finds a scraggle of bare branches destined to remain our primary view until April rolls around again. Venture out–a less pleasant effort now, with the temperature starting to drop and the rain whipping about–and it becomes clearer that winter proper has yet to set in, but autumn’s number has definitely been called.

On rainy November Sundays such as these, it’s important to remind yourself that it’s still autumn, and that winter’s monotony has not yet captured the day. To do this, I like to turn to aged spirits and the fruits of the season to keep things in perspective. Despite all my recent excitement over the allspice richness of pimento dram, I’m not yet ready to give up my Fallen Leaves and other calvados cocktails in favor of festive holiday-appropriate drinks such as Stingers and Tom and Jerrys. The time for those will be here soon enough; tonight, I need something rugged and autumnal, with enough muscle in it to beat back the chill of the night.

The Stone Fence is a drink of antiquity; it was old hat by the time Jerry Thomas set about writing his drinks guide, having been a mainstay at taverns and inns since at least the early 1800s. Easy to prepare–simply hard cider emboldened by a hearty dose of whatever amber spirit happens to be at hand–the Stone Fence is well-suited for a November evening. The drink takes the simple, honest purity of a glass of hard cider and touches it with a little savagery, making it a beverage that’s easy to approach, yet unforgiving when underestimated. As David Wondrich quipped in Esquire Drinks, the Stone Fence has “a name which hints at the effect produced by getting outside too many of these, which is not unlike that produced by running downhill into one.”

Take these gently–but on a nasty evening, take one.

Stone Fence

• 2 ounces brandy (or applejack, or Scotch, or bourbon, or rye, or rum)
• hard cider

Pour the spirits into a pint glass; add two lumps of ice and fill with cider.

Technorati tag: cocktails

Tags: Applejack, Bourbon, Brandy, Drinks, Rum, Rye, Scotch by Paul
6 Comments »